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burns with antibacterial goo. The slicked skin felt very hot, either from the sun or his freakish metabolism.
    Runt pursed his lips as he worked, chewing on his mustache. “We got limited medical out here.” Kneeling, he squeezed the tube and daubed at a nasty burn on one meaty shoulder blade.
    Ox winced and hissedand twisted around to face the racks. His nipple tightened on the furry pec in front of Runt’s face.
    “Yeah. Tough shit.” Runt wiped the extra ointment on the front of his worksuit. “Now on, just be careful with the tools. Something serious and I have to put you in stasis and ship your fat ass back to HardCell for employee surgery.”
    His large partner nodded once.
    As he watched the biotic goo seal the welts on Ox’s tan skin, Runt’s pelvis tightened and invisible feathery strokes ghosted over his nerve endings . . . a tickling madness that made his arm hair bristle.
    Pheromones.
    In closed spaces, Ox‘s starchy scent destroyed his concentration, and he couldn’t exactly ask his cofarmer to go rinse off his sexiness so Runt could trot outdoors to blow his jam again.
    Or can I?
    Ox twisted to inspect the burns and nodded thanks, but didn’t step back.
    Runt did, feeling his double-crossing cock plump in his drawers.
      “See here.” Runt cracked his knuckles and addressed Ox like a professor at the employee crèche. “I know they did a hormone splice on you. You’re gonna be getting an eyeful of my peg if you don’t rinse off regular. Yeah?” Runt squeezed his erection through his suit.
    He has to know .
    Ox nodded, grimacing.
    “No. We can’t neither of us help it, and there’s work to do. So you needta be having a proper wank now and then in the sea. That should help lower your levels.”
    Ox backed up further.
    “Nah. We’re both grown-ups. We’ll live. You go have a rinse. And then let’s have some grub.”
    Ox bobbed his head and jogged down to the water.
    Runt squatted inside the new hive, checking Ox’s work. He had tipped the panels from his shipping container inward, rounding the structure against the elements. HardCell’s digital queen chirped and purred in the center. Ox had remounted the device so it sat about a meter higher in the dead center of the expanded building, calming the drones and issuing instructions.
    The adult bee-moths hung quiet along the dim walls, glowing softly, resting for tonight’s duties. The best of two species . Rather than pollen, they harvested pests and samples which they fed to their computerized “queen” to analyze so she could assign tasks. Runt inspected the long pupal trays where a few new caterpillars munched on their bamboo salad; most already lay cocooned in silky pods. They’d hatch in the next day or so.
    The only thing: Runt couldn’t decide if his experiment had succeeded or failed.
    At the very least, he owed Ox a great supper for the miracle he’d worked in here. Corporate citizenship and comfort had never seemed closer.
    If he doesn’t get tired of outfarming his partner and murder me in my sleep.
    Back in the cook-space, Runt outdid himself, stir frying pilaf mealpaks. Ox hovered for a while, curious, until Runt tossed him a mango and a knife and pointed at the bench by way of an order.
    Runt watched Ox’s rough paws vivisect the mango swiftly. The giant returned with a bright pile of shreds, and at a nod from Runt, plunked them in the hissing digi-wok. The fruit seared quickly; the juice would disguise the multivitamin tang of the mealpak paste.
    Teamwork .
    After supper, Ox fell asleep on the bench again while Runt sat through a fantasy holo-vid plugging HardCell cosmetics while elves cast spells and raped each other. A few times, the dozing giant’s pheromones spiked, which meant Runt’s boner came and went without harm.
    He was grateful to have the sleep-space to himself again.
    Enjoy it while you can .
    Runt lay awake in his big bed. Even alone there, he felt keenly aware of the gigantic predator breathing deeply